Looking Back, Moving Forward
by TooPiAr
Summary: When you look at it in hindsight, he really does have a good point.


**A/N: I've stepped out from the familiar corners of the iCarly fandom and decided to try my hand at writing a fanfic for The Hunger Games. I haven't exactly read the books in fine detail, so some details might be wrong. One shot is set right after the events of Mockingjay, but before the events of the Epilogue.**

**Disclaimer: The Hunger Games trilogy and its characters are property of Suzanne Collins.**

"Why not? I do not see what could be so wrong with it!"

We've been having this argument all morning. I don't understand why he really could not see my point of view. Ever since we got married, he's been bringing up the argument (well, indirectly) every now and then. We've been married for nearly fifteen years and still he doesn't understand why I can't accept what he wants. Sure, I love him a lot. We've been through so much since the Games. He's become the beam of support I can lean to when the nightmares come. We supported each other through the ordeals we've been through, and we will continue to support each other until our last breaths. But that's all I can do. I can go no further than that. Every now and then, he brings up this argument. It always leads to this: storming out of the house to go hunting until I've shot my last arrow.

"Well I can't see what's so good about it," I yell back. "I don't understand how you could even conceive that idea. I thought I made it clear. I'm going hunting. When I get home, I do not want to speak of it, I do not want to hear of it, nor do I want to get a whiff of it ever again. Is that understood?"

"But..." he tries to answer back. I round on him, look him straight in the eye and repeat what I just said with a more serious tone.

"Is that understood, Peeta?" I look into his eyes… his deep blue eyes… as if I'm staring into the depths of his soul just to get my message across. I reiterate my words with much more venom in my voice.

"Alright, alright," he replies, raising his hands in surrender. He turns on his heel on walks away while I walk out of the door with my bow in hand. I walk through District 12, or what used to be District 12, go past the fence that's supposed to be electrically charged, but has been inactive for who knows how long, and into the woods where I've spent almost every moment of my young life. I sneak through the woods stealthily and simply shoot anything that moves. I no longer hunt to feed my family, like what I've been doing for most of my childhood. Now I hunt to simply vent out my emotions. It's as if each arrow is an emotion, and each time I shoot it removes a weight from my chest.

I know it's futile. The weights that are bearing down on me will never truly leave. I'll still have the nightmares. I'll still dream about Prim's life being snuffed away as Gale's firebombs explode in the Capitol. I'll still dream about how Rue was stabbed with a spear and how I shot her killer in the neck in retaliation. I'll still dream about how Peeta was taken and tortured by the Capitol just to get to me. Oh… that's one of the worst memories. Peeta is broken because of me. Prim is dead because of me. Rue, Finnick, Boggs… all of them are dead and it's all because of me. With each arrow I shoot, I wish I can run to the other end and get hit with my own arrow.

Hours pass, and the sun is nearly setting. I feel my arms ache after hours and hours of shooting at particularly nothing. Hunting… really does nothing to ease the pain. Even if I torture myself, or even kill myself, nothing will bring back all the people who die because of me. It wouldn't unreap me from the 74th Hunger Games. It cannot turn back time and undo the events that turned me into the broken soul I am now. Perhaps the only thing that keeps me sane is the fact that Peeta is there to keep me glued to reality.

Oh… Peeta. He's the one person who'd always be there when the nightmares got worse. He's the one who'd remind me of all the good I've done. Most importantly, he's the one who'll always be with me. Gale's words from long ago echo within my head.

"She'll choose the one she knows she can't survive without."

He's right. I can't survive without Peeta at my side, telling me that everything will be okay. He's been with me through thick and thin. He's risked his life for me time and time again without expecting anything in return and I've nothing to show for it. A weird feeling starts creeping through me, and suddenly I feel like winter's already around the corner. Peeta's been… there for me, and I give him harsh words in return. I suddenly feel tears streaming down my eyes and feel as though my heart were being skewered.

Without even bothering to properly put away my hunting hear, I run from the forest all the way back home, spending all the energy I can muster. Who would have thought that such feelings could make you physically stronger, or at least give you the illusion that you are?

I arrive at home and burst through the front door, frantically yelling Peeta's name. I find him in the kitchen, sipping a cup of tea. He stands up with urgency as I burst into the kitchen.

"Katniss, what's the pr-"he tries to ask, but I wrap myself around him before he could even begin speaking and crash my lips against his. He hesitates at first, obviously still confused by my sudden outburst. But then I start to feel him responding. The fire in my heart has ignited once again, and I feel the hunger that I felt on the beach, or perhaps the hunger that I felt, but failed to recognize, in the cave.

The warmth of his breath spreads across my faces as our lips wrestle with one another violently but romantically. I can feel all his passion being poured into this moment of intimacy; I feel the passion that must have been there since he laid his eyes on me, if his story of being in love with me since then is true.

After a while, we both run out of breath and I break our contact for some much needed air. My face is unusually warm and I can see that Peeta is equally flushed. Our episode must have been more action-packed than I imagined it to be. Everything that was on the kitchen counter has suddenly found its way to the floor. The tea he had been sipping earlier was now a puddle with everything else scattered on the floor.

I stare into his eyes, his deep blue eyes, and find myself at ease. But then I remember all those nasty things I've said over the years, and the tears start streaming down my face again.

He tucks a strand on my hair behind my ears and takes me into his arms.

"Hey… what's wrong?" he asks me.

"I've been… I realized –" I stutter out, but he presses his finger against my lips.

"Shh. Calm down. Take a deep breath."

I do as he says and already I feel a weight lifted off my shoulders. I whisper into his ear, tears still running down my face.

"I'm the biggest jerk to have ever lived: Real or not real?" I know he's going to say "Not Real" and whisper words of endearment to me; he'll do everything he always does to cheer me up.

To my surprise, however, he answers "Real" with a cheeky grin on his face.

I hit his shoulder playfully as he tightens his embrace. It was his turn to play our game.

"But despite everything, I still love you with all my heart, mind, soul and being: Real or not real?" He whispers into my ear.

I bury my face into his neck and answer, "Real."

We spend the next few minutes in silence. We embrace and simply enjoy each other's company. He caresses my head with his soft touch and I cannot help but feel all of his love and concern being poured out to me.

After a few minutes, I break the silence with a question I plucked much courage to ask.

"It's still not too late for us to start our own family: Real or not real?"

Although I can't see it, I can feel that a wide smile has made its way to his face. I can feel his embrace tighten. He presses a kiss to my forehead and answers.

"Real."

Growing more confident, I throw another question at him.

"You want to do it with me tonight: Real or not real?"

I feel him laugh a hearty laugh and I can't help but laugh along. He loosens his embrace and places one of his arms under my knees. He lifts me up with ease and starts carrying me to our room. He presses a quick kiss to my lips and answers.

"Real."

Hours later, we're both exhausted. If our earlier encounter left us flushed, this time we were exhausted. We lay in each other's arms and simply took in the ambience of the surroundings.

"Hey." Peeta speaks up. "What made you change your mind?"

I knew he'd bring this up sooner or later. I guess the best way around it was to just simply tell the truth.

"I wanted to give you everything, Peeta." I answer. "You've always been there for me all these years. You've done so many things and put your life on the line on many occasions just for me. In the course of our marriage, you put up with my attitude and still loved me despite all my imperfections. I want you to know that I want to give you everything the way you gave everything to me."

"Oh Katniss…" he replies. "You didn't have to feel obliged to do this. I would still love you even without… you know. Although smaller versions of us give me an opportunity to love you even more, you didn't need to."

"Yeah, I didn't need to." I snuggle myself closer to him and take his hand in mine. "But I want to."

I couldn't tell what Peeta was feeling at that moment, although I know that his heart was swelling with happiness in ways petty words could not even get close to describing.

"Thanks, Katniss" he says as he tightens his embrace.

After a few more moments of silence, he speaks up once again.

"Hey, Katniss? About that other thing…"

I already gave him this one, but there's no way in hell I'll give him the other thing he's asking for.

"Peeta, I'm alright with Haymitch being godfather. However, I want you to understand that I'd rather join another Hunger Games than let Effie Trinket be our child's godmother."

**A/N: And that, my friends, is my first attempt at writing fanfiction for The Hunger Games. I haven't exactly read all the books in complete detail. **

**I hope you enjoyed this little one-shot of mine. R&R and drop me a line to let me know how I can do better. **

**Thanks!**


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